


On and On

by ReaderJane



Category: Stephanie Plum - Evanovich
Genre: F/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-13
Updated: 2005-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-06 10:12:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaderJane/pseuds/ReaderJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would it take for Stephanie to change her life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	On and On

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this is not a cupcake fic.  
> Timeline: mid first chapter of Eleven On Top. This story was written after the first excerpt had been posted; before the second.  
> Disclaimer: it's all Janet's. Except the song, which is Christina Vidal's.

Whistling, I walked down the sidewalk from Morelli's house and got into my dark green Saturn SL-2. The Jersey sun was bright. The air was starting to feel crisp like fall. And I was one satisfied woman. Joe and I had spent the night re-establishing our relationship.

The day before I'd quit my job at Vincent Plum Bail Bonds. I was no longer employed by my cousin Vinnie the perverted ferret. No more rolling in garbage, trying to drag reluctant low-lifes back to jail. No more cop humor when I showed up at the station with a naked scofflaw in my car. Now I had a respectable job that even made my mother happy.

My shoulders sagged a little when I thought about what I'd be doing tomorrow. Yesterday I had applied for an office job at the button factory. My friend Karen Slobodsky had grimaced when she saw me in my suit, resume in hand.

"Stephanie, I'm so sorry! We just filled our manager position last week. Right now we're only hiring for the production line."

"That won't pay my bills, Karen." I blew out a breath, trying to think where else I could get a new job in a hurry.

Karen's face brightened. "Janice Szuch is going on maternity in two weeks. She's our supplies purchaser. You could take her job temporarily." She lowered her voice and added, "Janice swears she's coming back to work after her family leave is up, but between you and me? She's going to take one look at those baby blue eyes and quit before you can say LaLeche. We tried to start a pool on how many days she'd be back after the baby's born, but nobody would bet any higher than one."

"I have done purchasing before," I admitted, "but I really need something right away. I just quit my job at Vinnie's today."

"You could work a line job until Janice's leave starts," Karen suggested. "Get familiar with the business. Then you'd be ready to step into the purchasing job as soon as it's open."

"I guess so…" I hated the thought of spending all day operating a button machine. But in the end I had accepted. I could always quit if I found something better.

I switched on my car radio. A commercial ended, then I heard the opening riffs to "Take Me Away" from the Freaky Friday soundtrack. It's one of my all-time favorite movies after Ghostbusters. Chad Michael Murray is a hottie. And I love the music - well, except for when Chad sings "Hit Me Baby One More Time." Not ready for American Idol. That's okay. Chad's character Jake is supposed to be a guy who appreciates good music but can't sing worth a darn. Kind of like me.

"Yeahhhh," I sang along and bobbed my head to the bass guitar rhythm. "Yeahhhhh…"

_Get up, get out  
move on move on there's no doubt  
I'm all wrong, you're right  
It's all the same with you_

That's what I was doing. Moving on. Getting out of a bad situation and into… maybe not a great new job, but at least it was something within my abilities. I hated to admit it, but Morelli had been right about one thing. If bond enforcement agents were tested and licensed I would have flunked the test. I turned west onto Hamilton and shaded my eyes against the glare from oncoming windshields.

_I'm too thin, too fat  
You ask why  
So why, so why, so why, so why_

I'd been kind of self-conscious in bed last night. While I was trying to stay ahead of the Slayers I'd done a lot of comfort eating. There were love handles either side of my waist, and the extra fat on my hips made my boobs look even smaller. Joe was smart enough not to comment. Guess he didn't want to spoil the mood so soon in our reconciliation phase.

_On and on and on and on,  
On and on and on and on..._

While I was belting out the lyrics, a little voice tried to say, "you don't like the end of the Joe and Stephanie movie."

"Shut up," I told the voice firmly. "This is the middle of the movie, and the middle is fan-freaking-tastic."

_Don't wanna grow up  
I wanna get out  
Hey, take me away_

There had been one sour note last night just as we were falling asleep. Joe had drowsily kissed my hair and said, "Cupcake, I'm glad you decided to grow up."

I'd pulled back, trying for offended but too lethargic to pull it off. "Grow up? You mean it's okay for you to play cops and robbers but not me?"

"I'm not playing." Joe's voice had sobered. He might seem relaxed, but underneath there was a part of him that was always aware, always on guard. "I am a cop. I'm trained and experienced and I'm good at what I do."

"And I'm not."

"Doesn't matter." He yawned and tucked my head under his chin. "You're not doing it anymore."

I couldn't think of a good comeback, so I'd put it aside for later.

_I wanna shout out  
Take me  
Away, away, away, away, awaaaaaayyyy..._

I pounded the steering wheel to the rhythm of the drums. This was such a great song.

_Round and round here we go again  
Same old start, same old end  
Turn my head  
I turn back again_

Ranger had certainly turned my head yesterday with his comment about hosing me down. Part of me had wanted to say, "I'll get the soap." And part of me had wanted to run and hide. The usual part had won - the part that turned back to Joe. And that was good, right? Joe was the one who wanted to offer me a ring. What Ranger offered was a mystery. An intoxicating mystery, but I couldn't spend my whole life intoxicated. It was time to sober up.

A sporty red car pulled in front of me. Its low rear window reflected the sun directly into my eyes. I groped in my handbag for my sunglasses, but couldn't find them. I flipped down the visor.

A white square of note paper was clipped to the visor where I usually keep my proof of insurance card. I squinted at the paper, trying to shield my eyes and watch the traffic at the same time.

The paper said, "I'M NOT DEAD. BUT YOU WILL BE."

I slammed on the brakes. Shouts and car horns sounded behind me.

_Same old stuff never ends._

"This isn't fair," I said out loud. I swiveled in my seat and returned the Italian hand gestures, throwing in a few of my own for good measure. The traffic light turned red. I had a few moments to get hold of myself. I shivered, gripping the wheel.

"I'm not chasing criminals anymore. How can they still be chasing me?"

True, there were probably a lot of people out there who were still pissed at me. Some of them were behind bars, but some might be out on parole. Some had plea-bargained their way to a suspended sentence. Didn't mean they'd forgiven the person who dragged them back into the system.

The light turned green. I pulled ahead, trying to focus on driving. I needed to tell someone. I flipped open my cell phone, my thumb hovering over Joe's speed-dial button.

_Do this, do that  
Can't deal Can't deal with that  
I tune in, tune out  
I've heard it all before_

Joe's reaction would be typical. He'd be angry, then grim. The accusation that this newest stalker was all my fault would go unspoken. He'd tell me to stay inside the house while the police investigated. I'd be lucky if he shared the details with me.

_Hello, goodbye  
Never asking me why,  
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye_

I could call Ranger. He had more resources to help me in this kind of situation, and unlike Joe he didn't have to stay within the law. If I told Ranger about the threatening notes he'd assign men to follow me around. I'd be safer, but the safety would come with a price. Ranger would probably help me for free. I'd still feel obligated. Joe would be pissed that I'd turned to Ranger instead of him.

There was no good solution. Only compromises, anxiety and blame.

_On and on and on and on,  
On and on and on and on..._

Dammit, I'd been a bounty hunter for three years. I'd learned a lot about chasing and being chased. Even though I wasn't in bond enforcement any more, I still had my pepper spray, my stun gun and my thirty-eight. I still had my determination. Didn't I?

_Round and round here we go again  
Same old story, same old end  
Turn my head  
I turn back again_

I turned at the next light without thinking where I was going. I needed to take my safety into my own hands. If trouble was going to keep following me no matter what I did, it was time to start being more prepared for it.

I pulled into a parking spot and looked up. My subconscious had driven me to Sunny's gun shop and firing range. I got my thirty-eight out of the glove compartment where I'd tucked it after announcing my resignation.

The bell tinkled cheerfully as I stepped through the door. Sunny looked up and gave me a big smile. Her frizzed yellow hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and today she had a red-and-orange striped manicure.

"It's the bombshell bounty hunter! I heard you retired. Have you come to turn in your gun and your badge?" she joked. "I can give you a good price on that thirty-eight."

I slapped my credit card on the counter. "I need a box of shells," I said.

Sunny's pencilled eyebrows shot up. "Sure thing," she answered. "Need some targets too? I got a lot of spots open in the back right now."

"Yeah," I said. "Let me have some targets too, please."

_Same old stuff never ends_


End file.
